Be My Valentine At The Nine-Nine
by writergirl89
Summary: It's nearing Valentine's Day and Santiago - still single and willing to work extra on that certain holiday - is put in an interesting mindset when she starts to realize that she is being wooed by her partner... And doesn't know what to do about it. Now M Rated. For realz, guys!
1. Uh-Oh

**Title:** Be My Valentine At The Nine-Nine

**Author:** WriterGirl89

**Fandom:** Brooklyn Nine-Nine

**Rating:** T (for now)

**POV:** Third-Person

**Pairing:** Jake/Amy

**Summary:** Valentine's Day is on the horizon and Amy Santiago - still single and willing to waste the holiday away with extra work - is put in a different mindset when she starts to realize that she is being romantically persued by her partner. *wink wink*

**Author's Note:** Okay, so, yeah, I came up with this last night, guys. I was starting to fall asleep after tumblring my new favorite OTP because I was bored and being a freelance writer does not a serious life make, know what I'm saying? Anyway, I just thought that since with this month comes the worst holiday of my existence, I would, for once make something positive out of it and get to writin' this piece that could go either way, if you ask me. Which, you probably won't because I'm my worst critic, so don't do that. Anyhow, enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I covet a few Lonely Island songs. Does that count for anything?

….

It all starts on a Tuesday. Which is also February the 4th.

Amy could admit she doesn't like February very much because it consists of Valentine's Day which , in the past, has been simultaneously the worst _and_ best holiday of her life and yeah, she knows it both ways because when she's had a boyfriend, you see, she's fine and depending on the guy, she more or less gets to enjoy herself with dinner for two and chocolate and candles and good sex and loving life because she's _not_ alone on the most inconvenient day to be as such.

(Except, for, you know, that one day she actually got _dumped_ on Valentine's Day, which was just a boatload of fun… and tears.)

On the other hand, though, and for most of her adult life, when she's been single and has had to endure every bit of propaganda concerning love and happiness and stupid couples cuddling in the park, that's when the cynic comes out and she's grumpy and mean to others and curses all of her exes – good _and_ bad – for causing her to be alone and ordering herself some take-out, vegging on her own couch, and dreading those phonecalls from the friends and family that _do_ have someone and aren't cursing the earth and every non-single person on it.

This year is sure to one of the latter, of that she's certain, because she's single and if she's being honest – and she tries very hard not to be- there hasn't been anyone steady since before she entered the Academy and she's okay with that, honestly, and is pretty positive she'll have to beg Holt for extra work on Said-Holiday-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named and she walks into her precinct, as breezily as she can and braces herself for the distraction of paperwork and chasing perps.

Then, she sees the flowers.

A large, over stuffed, bouquet of multi-colored roses.

For moment, she thinks she's hallucinating and stops before her desk where the lush bouquet lay keeping her files and messages company and looks around, as if to see if anyone misplaced this quite _large_, set-up of flowers.

She gets nothing because no one's even noticing her and there's no clue has to how this got here.

When she realizes that there's a good chance there is no misunderstanding and the flowers may actually be for her, she settles into her desk, grabbing the assorted roses and trying her very best to seem dispassionate as she sees that they're a mix of pink, red, and a kind of swirly pale yellow.

It's an odd combination but, even she has to admit they're beautiful and she sighs again when she sees a small card hanging on the side and reaches for it, almost certain that this could very well be another old, early prank courtesy of one of her brothers, making fun of her single status and saying something like, _happy lonely heart's day, loser!_ followed by a stupid winky face because it's happened before and she prepares herself for that, for the disappointment that's sure to hang over her after.

That's not what happens.

The small card simply says: _Enjoy the flowers! I know you like tea roses. :)_

_OK, so, not a prank._ She surmizes to herself, bringing the bouquet closer for a sniff. _Or...?_ She again braces herself for something. A sprinkle of water or something awful to come out of those roses-

-Only to breathe in the best, nicest, most _gorgeous_ fragrance she's ever smelled and then letting out a pleased exhale at the scent that sends her mind to an immediate happy place.

She soon has to shake herself out of it because she still has work and also, there's still the mystery of _who in the blue hell_ sent her the roses.

This big, beautiful, thoughtful, fragrant, and utterly _romantic_ bouquet of roses.

_Mmm._ She thinks, trying to do the math in her head. Whoever sent her these flowers knows her enough to know that she likes tea roses and not the usual, generic type of things people normally sent and put a lot of thought into this gesture and even the card itself speaks of somebody who abhors any clichéd messages or writing and probably knows that she thinks the very same way.

Whatever. She could be wrong and this could just be someone being nice and trying to give her a good start to the day, despite the month it happens to be in.

Or maybe _because_ of it.

She forces herself not to read anything more into it and asks Gina for a large mug of water so, that she could put the flowers in it.

Some time passes and she actually almost forgets about the new addition to her desk, only being reminded of it as more and more people pass her by and compliment them and try as she might, through every reaction, Amy still can't tell if anyone in the precinct sent them to her and before she even realizes the missing link she _hasn't_ thought about, he's actually arriving to work, a belligerent perp struggling in his grip before handing him off to an officer to put in holding.

_Ah. Here it comes._ She doesn't want the jokes and cracks sure to come her way from Peralta but, braces herself, nonetheless, for them as she casually strokes the soft petals of her roses.

And again, like most things this morning, nothing she expects happens.

No jokes. No cracks at her expense. Nothing. Her partner simply greets a few of their co-workers on the way over and nods in her direction, gives her a short greeting of _Santiago_, and slides right into his chair.

He doesn't even give the flowers a passing glance.

And that, in itself, makes her worry.

"Soo..." She starts probing after a while because seriously, it's Jake. He has something to say. He has to have something to say. He always has something to say. "...I got flowers this morning..." She trails off as she looks at him expectedly.

He just continues doing whatever it is he's working on at his desk and says. "I see that." His tone of voice betraying nothing.

No, he _doesn't_ because again, he spares no glance at her or the roses and she stifles the urge to slam her hand down on his desk to get his eyes to move because this is getting ridiculous. "They're very nice..." She says with an exaggerated wistful tone in her voice, leaning forward a little. "Really pretty and... soo romantic..."

That does something. It's just a slight change to his facial expression but, she knows that jaw twitch anywhere.

"Aha!" She says a little too loudly and lowers her voice when a few people look in her direction, leaning further into Peralta's space as his head turn to her calmly. "I knew you had something to say. You always do." She says lowly, standing and sitting on his desk, peering into his weirdly stoic face as she points an accusing finger at him. "So, spill it, Peralta. Wanna make a joke at me sending them to myself? Having a secret lover? Come on, spill." Her whisper turns urgent as she gets right in his face and sees something, something brief and unknowable, flash in his eyes and she knows there's something, _anything_, he's not telling her-

"I got nothing, Amy." He responds, again not giving anything away, and she fights the flip-flop of her stomach at the use of her name as he leans up defiantly, his voice as low as hers. "Not this time."

And then, she has to ask.

"Why not?"

They're almost nose to nose when he answer, sharing her breathing space and locking her into his dark gaze, the stoicism falling and his lips turning up at the corners. "Because I got 'em for you."

They're breathing heavily now and she's almost positive her whole body stops working as - through the roaring in her own ears - she process this new information and with a severe kick to her heart, realizes what he just said.

"Huh?" Is basically the best response to come out of her at this time, the revelation catching her off balance.

He simply nods. "Yeah." He's the most serious she's ever seen him and her breath catches as she struggles with his confession.

She automatically gets up from her perch on his desk and goes back to hers, sagging into her chair, her face falling into her hands.

"Are you okay?"

She waves a hand to him, the other shakily running through her hair as she looks at him again. "I just can't believe-"

"Believe it."

She looks at him in a way she is sure is close to incredulous. "You sent me roses." Her voice raises a titch and she looks around her to see if anyone's looking before she means forward like before. "You sent me tea roses. My favorite flowers. Why would you do that? Are you joking with me? Playing a prank?" Then, her heart slams and she brings up another kind of conclusion. The kind of conclusion she would normally be afraid to bring up. "It was romantic." She hears herself whispering with mixed emotions as she starts voicing her thoughts out loud."It was romantic and sweet and thoughtful-"

"That's real nice to hear." He interrupts nonchalantly, twiddling a pencil between his fingers. "Because I kinda meant it that way."

She looks at him, shaking her head, every bit of surprise running through her system. "Jake I-"

"Peralta, get in here!"

They turn to Holt's voice in his office and Jake gives her a quick look before he gets up and leaves their shared desk and she's left to watch him walk away, letting out a puff of breath she hadn't known she was holding, looking over at the tea roses being replenished in the large water mug, her fingers instinctively reaching to touch the satiny petals of red and swirly yellow, and her stomach ping-ponging as she thinks but one thing.

_Uh-oh._

...

**A/N: Really hoped you liked this 'cause I'm still not sure. Just the idea of Jake wooing the lovely Amy with her actual knowledge, confused as it may be, was just too good to pass up. This will be a multi-chap, I just don't know long. Probably just a few chapters. Who knows? I might change my mind. **

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	2. Phone Calls & Signs

**Chapter 2:** Phone Calls & Signs

**Author:** WriterGirl89

**Fandom:** Brooklyn Nine-Nine

**Rating:** T

**POV:** Third-Person

**Pairing:** Jake/Amy

**Summary:** A restless Amy makes an important phonecall and... learns a few things.

**Author's Note:** Hey guys! Back with a second chapter because that seems to be what everyone wants which is amazing considering how apprehensive I was about writing this to begin with but, I still appreciate the feedback and the alerts and just… basically the support for this story and all your wonderful comments. Love you! Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Wah! Like you don't know!

…

Amy sighs as she flops onto her back when laying on her side doesn't work out for her to fall sleep and she all but gives up and just stares at her own ceiling, thinking, for the _thousandth_ time, about the day's events.

Waking up in a grumpy mood.

The flowers that bring her out of it.

The card.

She breathes and out.

Jake…

_He got me flowers._ She thinks, watching the shadows of the dark forming and melding into her ceiling. _He got me nice, probably pricy red and yellow roses. Tea roses. Her favorite flowers with the simpliest, most thoughtful card she'd ever gotten._

And it's not like she _hasn't_ thought about it either. Now, here, in the restless dark of her apartment, she's woman enough to admit it.

Not him sending her flowers exactly but, just… _him_. There's shades of time she could faintly recall imagining what it would be like to be one of the girls he'd be interested in. To see how crazy he would get to grab her attention because she's worked with and known him for so long that she's been witness to the off-the-wall shenanigans he could participate in just to get the attention of the opposite sex.

It happens at odd and at random periods of her time and she's thinking about it now because it's not like he hasn't _literally_ just given her the go-ahead to do so after he sent her _goddamn roses_!

And with that, she gets up and walks to her kitchen, suddenly thirsty.

Only, not without grabbing her phone first and she doesn't realize what her intentions are until she's standing near her refrigerator, looking through her contacts, her finger scrolling through it until landing on _Jake P._ and she pauses, opening up her frig and grabbing a water bottle.

She takes a large swig before moving over to her couch and plopping unceremoniously down on it, looking at Jake's contact photo.

It'd been a slow moving, paper-pushing day at the nine-nine and of course, being who she is, Amy finishes most of her work before the day is through and becoming rapidly bored, takes out her phone and starts skimming through it before her gaze finds her partner, fingers typing swiftly and face uncharacteristically focusing on his own work and without thinking, puts on the camera function on her screen and snaps a quiet photo of him totally unawares.

She looks at the snapshot that's now his picture ID with his contact info.

He's staring straight at whatever it is he's doing. Pencil tucked over the back of his ear. Jaw set as he concentrates. Eyes front and center. His dark tie contrasting with the usual plaid of the shirt that's rolled over his forearms.

She couldn't then but, she most definitely can now, appreciate her partner and his physical appeal.

He's handsome. There's no escaping that fact. Even though it's mostly been overshadowed by how much of a manchild he could be and of how much he could get under her skin in the worst - and best - way.

Still though, a manchild is still physically a man and in the privacy of her own thoughts, she could fantasize all she wants about how good a time she could give Jake Peralta in bed if she damn well pleases.

But, this? This is very different.

He's not being lewd - well, not as much - and he's not chasing her for a good time. He sent her a thoughtful bouquet of roses and Jesus, men, even men like_ him_, don't do that unless...

She looks at her phone again, her thumb hovering over his number on her phone screen, thinking long and hard about it, her heartbeat speeding up as she thinks of hearing his voice, despite the fact that she's done it many times before.

She calls him.

_"Hello?"_ He answers, voice deeper and a tiny bit groggy, she's sure, from sleep although he doesn't sound that much out of it so, she knows she's getting him just under the wire and feels only a_ little_ bit bad that she's possibly waking him up.

"What did you mean by it?" She blurts out without thought and immediately grimaces because this here is one of the reasons she should continue the trend of thinking before speaking because she ends up doing this instead.

He sounds startled and put out when he responds. _"Who the f-? Amy?"_ His voice raises at her name and she hears him let out a small whistle after a brief minute. _"Jesus_ _Chri- Amy, wanna tell me why you're calling me at three in the morning?"_

"Well, I-" She stumbles but, soldiers on anyway despite the circumstances. "I just wanted to know what you meant with the flowers today?"

His reaction is kind of like but, not really what she expects. _"Jesus..."_ He exhales sharply in her ear and makes a sound of mild exasperation. _"Are you still on that?"_

She's only mildly offended by his tone and responses accordingly. "Hey! You're the one who bought them for me so, if you don't think that I'm gonna drill you on the issue, then you really have another thing coming!" She says, nearly yelling. "I'm confused and tired yet too geared and wired to fall asleep and it's _your_ fault so, you better have answers for me, Peralta!"

_God, why does she have to sound like her mother when she talks that?_

There's a moment of silence after that in which all she can make out is his breathing, which oddly enough relaxes her, considering.

He sighs - a ragged sound of stress - and she can almost picture him running a hand over his face. _"Can I, at least, have a few minutes to wake up?"_ His voice is somewhat gentled, seeming to want to appease her now. _"Put on some pants or somethin'?"_

She almost laughs then because why would he need pants for a _phonecall_ and the laugh stops altogether when she pictures him lying in bed either naked or in his underwear.

And because it's Jake, she's _pretty_ sure it's the former.

Either way, she makes a slight crack at his expense because she can. "Pants, Jake? Really?

_"Yeah."_ She hears rustling in the background and a grunt from him._ "It wasn't that freezing tonight so, I thought what the hell? Why? You still wearing your wool pajamas?"_ He teases.

She looks down at the tiny panties and tanktop she'd donned to bed. Her bare legs sprawled on her couch. "Yup."

_"Uh-huh."_ She hears some breathing from him and after a couple of minutes, there's a long pause before he talks again and the sound of water running filters through the phone line. _"Okay, talk to me."_

She thinks about it.

_"Amy?"_

"Just..." She takes a deep breath through her nose, trying to clear her head. "...Just give me a minute."

_"Okay."_ He says, the _o_ sounding longer from his vocal cords and after she hears him make a sound that seems like he's having a drink, she has a brief thought that, somewhere in Brooklyn, there's a shirtless man standing in his kitchen in the middle of the night, waiting on her to start a conversation.

Life is... _interesting_ sometimes.

"Alright..." She inhales and then exhales. "...Why'd you send me those roses?"

_"Oh my God..."_

"Just answer the question, Peralta!"

_"We've been over-"_

"No, we haven't!" She huffs. "I just said that they were thoughtful and sweet and romantic and you only said you meant it that way!" She's working herself up again and it's doing nothing to relax her breathing. "What the hell is that, Peralta?! You can't spring this on somebody out of nowhere with no fair warning and expect-"

_"Out of nowhere?"_ He sounds outraged and she's stunned for a moment because it's actually the angriest she's ever heard from him and she can sense, through the anger, a small hint of _hurt_ and it twirls her stomach something awful. _"Out of now-! Are you fucking kidding me, Amy?! During this whole time, you never once- Gah!"_ He yells something away from the phone and she still finds herself flinching. _"There were signs, goddammit! Signs!"_ He sounds almost manic now.

"What are you talking about, signs?" She hears herself utter in befuddlement. "You never-"

_"Oh, really?"_ He says tauntingly in her ear and a shiver goes through her as his voice become something lower. More intimate. _"Think, Amy. Take a peak inside that gorgeous_ _mind of yours and think real hard."_

She does and finds... _inconsistencies_ in her own recollection. The car rides after her botched dates. Her favorite breakfast and coffee orders he seems to know better than anyone else at the precinct. The way he would look at her sometimes. The smiles. The comments on how she looked. The small, nice gestures anyone else would think is out of friendship-

"Oh my God."

_"Yeah."_

She's stupid. So stupid. And awful. She's a stupid, awful woman who's never gonna make it to be Captain because she's also a bad detective who can't figure out that her own partner likes her.

Or, you know,_ liked_ because he must hate her now. _She'd_ hate her now.

"I'm so sorry." She says through her personal wave of embarrassment. "I just thought you'd never-"

_"Well, I did. I am. And, you know, here we are."_

There's a silence then. A lull in the conversation as she feels the fight drain out of her completely and the sound of his breath in her ear gives her strange comfort because she's really sure anyone else would hang up by now. "I'm really sorry."

_"Hey..."_ His voice is gentler now and she allows it to soothe the demons in her brain telling her how terrible she is. _"... Don't worry about it. As long as you're not rejecting_ _me, we're solid."_

There's an unspoken question there, she's sure, and that he's maybe waiting on her to gently let him down easy.

She doesn't.

She doesn't because it's very refreshing and very attractive to hear him be this honest about his feelings for once and more importantly, she doesn't want to.

There's another, more comfortable silence that follows before he talks, low and deep, in her ear.

_"Hey, Amy?"_

"Hmm?"

_"Did you like 'em, at least? The roses, I mean?"_

"Jake-"

_"Come on, you called to ask about the flowers and now it's my turn."_ He's being more playful now and her lips lift at the corners into the phone. _"I wanna know: Did they_ _smell nice to you? Was the color combo not as nice? Should I have done better? Come on, give me details."_

She thinks back to their day and paperwork and chasing criminals and that, through her surprise and continued mission to distract herself, she doesn't pull him aside and at least tell him how much she appreciates the roses.

_This_ is better, though. She likes_ this_ better.

"They were beautiful. I've never seen anything so beautiful." She tells him sincerely, a smile he can't see creeping up on her face. "They were... They were perfect. They were a surprise but, yes, they were nice. I love them. Thank you. Really."

She can almost _feel_ him smile himself from the other line and he sounds _mighty_ pleased, too. _"I'm glad you liked them."_ There's a small pause before he clears his throat and is back again. _"And also, you're wrong."_

"About what?"

_"You're beautiful."_ He responses immediately and her breath hitches at the complete and utter honesty emanating from his voice._ "You're the beautiful one."_ He tells her as if to drive it home._ "All I needed to do was look at you and try to see if anything else could come close. Did I succeed?"_

Oh, okay. She most definitely_ doesn't_ wanna cry right now because that is, without a doubt, the _most_ romantic thing anyone has ever said to her and she feels her defenses wearing down more because he seems to be firing at all cylinders today. The flowers. Now this.

If this is just the beginning of whatever he's planning for her, she doesn't know if she'll _survive_ what he'll do next.

"I..." She breathes out a shaky exhale. "...I don't what to say to that."

He chuckles, the sound pleasant and vibrating in her eardrums. _"That's okay. I'll see you at work tomorrow?"_

"Yeah." She knows it's late and that they have to hang up but, she's very reluctant to do so, surprisingly. "Goodnight, Jake."

_"G'night, Amy."_

...

**A/N: So, yeah, there's definitely more where that came from and I was gonna add more of that material after the end here but, this seemed so _nice_ on it's own so, I promise you guys there will be more material concerning the actual persuit and Jake's wooing of Amy so, don't be mad and if you find this too sickeningly sweet and it doesn't unlock your joy safe, I can't do it. I can't help you. **

**Thanks for reading! :)**


	3. Chocolates, Parties, & Red Dresses

**Chapter 3:** Chocolates, Parties, & Red Dresses

**Author:** WriterGirl89

**Fandom:** Brooklyn Nine-Nine

**Rating:** T

**POV:** Third-Person

**Pairing:** Jake/Amy

**Summary:** The 99 celebrates Holt's Birthday, Jake and Amy share moments and the confessions just keep coming from our favorite, romantically-driven detective.

**Author's Note:** Hiya! Hope you guys are rearing for another chapter because that's what's coming to you and judging by your feedback on my last two entries, you all are eager for said updates and more of Jake wooing and/or romantic gestures for our current OTP and what happens next between them so, here you go. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** No- *gets look from lawyer* Alright, fine! I don't own nor am associated with anything or anyone having to do with Brooklyn Nine-Nine. *lawyer walks away and then in a whisper* But, I really am, though.

...

When Amy gets into work to the precinct two days after the roses and the late night phone call, she expects nothing – absolutely _nothing_ – from Jake because it's been two days since he sent her flowers – the same flowers she now waters and makes sure get enough sunlight because they are _not_ dying, not on her watch – and besides him being more openly flirtatious and eyeing her in that deeply _smoldering_ fashion when no one's looking, there's been nothing.

No more beautiful roses with thoughtful cards._ Nothing_.

And she doesn't know why why she's disappointed.

And yes, she knows he never says to her that he's gonna send her more stuff but, it's just- Okay, fine, she _wants_ more stuff! She wants to see what else he has up his lizard-y, clever brain for her. For this. For…_ them_.

So, that particular morning – and again, anticipating nothing – she cannot believe the swell in her chest when she sees a container from her favorite diner along with a to-go mug of coffee sitting on her desk, a smile creeping onto her face.

Which, in hindsight, is kinda school-girly and ridiculous because it's_ only_ breakfast and coffee – probably her favorite but, whatever- and this actually could be from someone else and even if it is from him, not every single thing he does for her has to be _that_ and his persuit of her doesn't have to color _everything_ that happens but, still, she has no forethought for food when leaving home earlier and there's no hint of coffee in her system because she wants to get to the station to work extra on a certain case she's working.

So, when she sits down and opens the container to the mouthwatering sight of her favorite order of breakfast burritos and takes a sip of her coffee to find that it is the diner's specialty flavored - _flavored!_ – coffee, she leans back in her chair and lets herself enjoy this, savoring French vanilla heaven and gorging on the _best_ burrito on earth.

She polishes off her breakfast just before Peralta arrives to work and sees her at her desk, checking out a potential address for her case and still sipping on her coffee.

"You seem... chipper, Santiago." He immediately teases upon seeing, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She looks up, seeing him in the process of taking off his leather jacket, wearing one of his many plaid shirts - this one a red pattern - along with a dark burgundy tie, his badge, as always hanging over his neck and she watches, with startling acuity, how his movements cause his muscles to move under his clothes.

The sight makes her pause. Causes any and all retorts to die in her throat.

And also brings about the frightening conclusion that she is very, very screwed.

_Goddammit._

She ends up staring way too long, though. Soo long, in fact, that she doesn't realize him noticing her rapt attention and then chuckling low in his throat, sending a wolfish grin in her direction. "See anything you like, Amy?"

She has no idea if it's the way his voice is several pitches lower or the use of her name or how he looks at that way he does but, she snaps out of her stupor right quick, heat rising in her face, and instead goes back to her work, pointedly ignoring his inquiry and feeling herself stiffen as he moves closer, keeping her eyes on her computer screen when he plops onto the edge of her desk.

"Santiago?" He murmurs and she feels the sound of his voice go through her bones.

"Hmm?"

She can't look at him. She won't. He'll just see everything she can't voice right now.

"You look really nice today." The sincerity and soft nature of his voice causes her to look up at him and see _that_ look again, only this time tinged with something else, something like affectionate blurring the edges of his intensity.

"Um-" She licks at her lips, mouth gone dry, her sense of speech vacated.

His eyes drop down to her mouth and her stomach flips out in response. "I love it when you do that."

"I-" She look around and away from him again, her cheeks burning. Finding the words to speak. "I got the breakfast this morning. It was sweet of you. Thanks." She manages honestly, giving him a small smile.

He only frowns at her, befuddlement clouding his face. "What are you talking about? What breakfast?" He asks, confused.

"Oh." A feeling close to embarrassment hits her gut and she feels blood rush to her head in a altogether different way. "I thought - and you -" Because of course, not every single thing he does has to do with her and she should know better.

But, then she looks up, notices the smile threatening to cross his face, the laughter in his eyes and-

"I'm sorry-" He says through his chuckles. "I'm soo sorry. Just kidding. It was totally me."

She stands up, anger breaking through her cloud of embarrassment, and straight-up punches him in the arm. "Jerk."

"Ouch." He says, still grinning, not even remotely hurt or remorseful, a lecherous edge to his grin. "I love it when you turn into a spitfire."

Nope, she won't even- No, she's_ not_ gonna respond to that.

She aggressively sits back down, centering her focus back to her work. "You're a jackass."

"And you're the hottest thing on earth when you're angry." He fires back immediately and no, her body doesn't respond to that because he cannot - _will not_ - get away with everything just based on the fact that he likes her and thinks she's more beautiful than the gorgeous bouquet of roses sitting in her nicest crystal vase back at her apartment or buys her favorite breakfast or- just no._ No, no, no, no!_

"Okay." He says after a beat when she doesn't look back at him, trying to ignore him, and he moves back to his side of the desk. "Alright, obviously, I made an error."

"You don't say." She mumbles under her breath, knowing that he'll hear her anyway.

She hears him sigh and after several minutes of hearing nothing but, the chatter and noise of the precinct swirling over the air, she finally turns and looks at him, sees him in profile as he works on his own, jaw set and eyes forward.

He never looks back at her and later that afternoon, after lunch, and while Jake's gone chasing a perp, she gets back to her desk to see a new addition of a box of chocolates and with a card that says, _What? You thought that was it? ;)_ and makes herself promise she'll apologize for overeacting, smacking away Gina's prying hands as she enjoys the best, most indulgent chocolates she's ever had.

Doesn't exactly work out that way.

...

Even though she knows for a fact that Jake Peralta's kryptonite is the color red on a woman - because sometimes he overshares and the downside of a long stake-out is having no choice but, to listen - Amy will not admit, even with threat of physical harm, that picking that striking red number in the back of her closet has anything to do with getting her partner's attention.

She just keeps telling herself that it's Holt's Birthday and that she just wants to find out as much as she can about her potential mentor.

It works... a little.

She gets so caught up in snapping pictures of Holt's cupboard contents that she actually forgets about her other preoccupation and making the poor choice of invading her boss's privacy that she has no thought for Peralta - for once - during that particular evening.

Until, he follows her upstairs to their Captain's bedroom.

"What are you doing here?" He hisses at her after coming in after her, closing the door behind him

"What are _you_ doing here?" She echoes right back, watching as he shoulders past her to get at a side table.

"Just trying to see if I could get past this pro-slavery stance I've put myself into."

What?

She blinks as he starts rummaging through magazines on the nightstand, forgetting her own recon mission for the moment as she eyes him.

He eventually gives up on his search. "Goddammit! It's not here! Where would a professor hide a _New Yorker_?"

She laughs a little as she watches him sag against the night table.

Then, a silence goes over the room and there's a beat before his eyes circle the room as if to find something and then land on her and while Amy's never had to see someone literally pause in their own breathing, she's also quite sure this just might be it as Jake's gaze travels along the length of her body. Her bare legs elongated by heels. The _shorter-than-anything-she's-ever-worn_ red dress.

"You look very..." He seems to struggle for words, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, and Amy reminds herself that she did pick out the dress with him in mind - can now admit to herself - and stands frozen in as he almost drinks her in before she hears herself speak up just as he does at the same time. "Nice?"

"Appetizing." He says over her, his voice husky, pupils blown to twice their size over the brown of his eyes, and she sees that his hands are literally gripping the edges of the nightstand and the feeling that courses through her skin is akin to electricity

She lets go of the breath she's holding and takes a tentative step towards him. "Soo..." She starts coyly, deciding to play this out, even doing a small curtsy, hands holding the sides of her dress. "...does this mean you like the dress?" She bites her lip, trying to be as sexy and coquettish as she can be.

His eyes glaze over as they hold on her thighs being revealed as her dress inches up. "I love the dress." Then his eyes go up and they hold her gaze this time, deep pools of soulful dark brown she could lose herself in. "Especially on you."

She takes another step. "I like your suit, too." Now, it's her turn to skim her stare over him, appreciating the way it fit him, really loving the way he could look in a suit and tie. "It looks good on you."

She doesn't get to see what happens after that - and she wishes she could have - because Jake looks about ready to jump her when Terry interrupts and then they hide in the bathroom and ugh, dog allergies and then they're getting kicked out of Holt's house by the man himself.

And when Peralta offers her a ride home, she accepts without hesitation.

They're in the car in quiet when he asks her, eyes focusing on the road. "Did you mean what you said back there?"

And she doesn't know why but, it seems like the evening of honesty so, she says. "Yes." Looking straight ahead, too.

"Good." He says promptly and then after a beat, adds. "Me, too."

There's more silence after that as they both digest that and she decides to let the cat out of the bag because she might as well after everything. "You know, I..." She hesitates, her mind racing with the words to say. "...I picked my dress... because of you. I saw it and I thought of you. I know you like red so..." She shrugs, thinking that's her big share of the evening for now.

"Amy..." The way he says her name - low, like a caress - makes her turn and she sees his jaw clenching as his fingers tighten on the wheel. "...You didn't have to do that."

She stares at him, waiting on him to elaborate and is surprised when he pulls over and stops the car, taking a ragged breath, running a hand over his face - his stress mechanism, she realizes - and then calming himself to look at her, eyes dark and steady, her breath hitching as he leans towards her. "What I'm trying to say is that I want you."

"Then, why-"

"Because I don't want you thinking you have to..." He cuts himself off, leaning back again and taking a deep breath. "I want you. You could be wearing a paper bag and I could still want you." He's takes another breath. "I wanted to fuck you back at the party. And I would've if Terry hadn't interrupted us." When he looks back at her, it's with an intense heat in both his voice and eyes. "And I still want to."

She could do nothing but, breathe because it's starting to get difficult when the man who wants you is telling you so and she squeezes her thighs together to quell the ache starting to build from his words, alone.

Not to mention the images taking over her mind.

"I just want you know that I respect you." His gaze is calmer now and she smiles at him encouragingly. "And that I don't just want you for one thing. I want this. Us. I want everything. All of it."

"I know you do."

"That's good. I'm glad you do because that's why I'm doing everything I'm doing. Because I like you and respect you and have feelings for you and I didn't want you thinking that I-"

She interrupts him again because he's gonna run out of steam soon and she's starting to get it now. She understands it now and it's incomparably sweet and sexy and god, the idea of him waiting for her out of respect is a good thought.

Unnecessary but, good.

"Jake I know. I know you don't."

She waits for him to nod and acknowledge her words, exhaling a breath of relief before she undoes her seatbelt and quickly scotches over close to him, not thinking twice before she puts a hand on his face and bringing it towards hers, swallowing his breath with her mouth.

It's nice and non-aggressive when she leads it. Just a soft pressing of her lips over his before he opens up ever-so-slightly and she moves, light as feather, his breath tasting of mint and something all his own, his hand wrapping around her wrist as he moves into her.

It's everything and yet nothing like she would guess her first time kissing Jake Peralta would be like and after he takes her home, sending him away this time with a kiss on the cheek, Amy gets inside her empty apartment, shuts the door behind her and leans against it, a smile spreading over her lips as she lets out a whoosh of air.

"Yes."

...

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed! The idea for the red dress fetish was from _curtaincall2's toreador, en garde_. So, thanks if you're reading this! :)**


	4. Jewelry, Mrs Santiago, & Italian Food

**Chapter 4:** Jewelry, Mrs. Santiago, & Italian Food

**Author:** WriterGirl89

**Fandom:** Brooklyn Nine-Nine

**Rating:** M (some adult material)

**POV:** Third-Person

**Pairing:** Jake/Amy

**Summary:** Our pair share a charged, intimate moment together, Jake meets a member of Amy's family, and an unexpected gift keeps Amy guessing about what's coming next.

**Author's Note:** I am writing concurrently with something else so, that's the reason it's taken a little long for me to update this V-Day treasure of mine. That and I've had my mind on other things. Real life's a big pain in the ass, guys.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Brooklyn Nine-Nine.

…

When Amy gets into work the day after Jake gives Holt and Kevin their surprise dinner as an apology for their party, she's happy. Giddy. Close to _ecstatic_.

It's nearing Valentine's Day.

And she can feel something in the air. A shift. She can feel something great is gonna happen because she is already expecting something nice that night.

She has a date.

With Jake.

A Valentine's Day date with the man who's been wooing her – for lack of a better term – for the past several days.

It's also been two nights since she kissed him. Since she felt what his breath could taste like, how soft and pillow-y his lips are.

To have him completely at her control as he fights himself for more.

"Mmm." She hums smiling to herself, as she goes through a few files in the evidence lock-up archives, getting so caught up in her own thoughts that she completely misses the new presence lurking near her.

"Hey." She spins around, started, a gasp leaving her as she hears the familiar voice near her ear but, relaxes when she sees who it is. "Jake!" But, then completely seizing her breath once she catches onto how close he is, in the darkened corner, to her. Just a hair away from her face.

He grins - wide and toothy - a mischevious edge to the corners of his mouth and it's enough to make her heart beat faster. "What are you doing here?"

"Would you believe it's because I'm grabbing something for Holt?"

She shakes her head, still smiling. "No."

"It's just-" His eyes start bouncing between her mouth and eyes, her breath catching sharply as he steps closer still, looking at her like she's the hottest thing on earth, despite the fact that she is wearing her large, grandma glasses that are, per usual, hanging low on her nose. "-I wanted to- and I haven't - ah, _fuck it_." Then he's closing the small distance between them and kissing her.

Well, _attacking_ her, more like. Immediately encircling his strong arms around her frame and hauling her up to his lips once he aggressively seals his mouth over hers, a deeply guttural sound ripping itself from his chest as he pushes his tongue between her teeth, pulling her so close up to him that she can feel him - _all_ of him - through the checkered blue of another one of his flattering button-downs, the denim of his pants, pulling him by his lighter sky-colored tie to kiss him deeper. More passionately.

But, then he bumps his nose on her glasses and instead of ruining the moment like it probably would anyone else, he just pulls away, breathing harshly, and carefully - in spite of the urgency she can _sense_ curdling in him - takes off her enormous glasses and settles them on a shelf behind them. "Yeah, those need to go right now."

"Okay." She manages, her voice weak and raspy, before he kisses her again and pushes her up against the shelves and it's very much a testament to how good a kisser this man is because she barely feels the edges of them jabbing into her back, her entire focus on him and him only, the minty spice of his hot breath, the shape of him through his clothes, and that giant, talented mouth stealing her breath.

Especially as he lifts her - making her squeak into his mouth because _hello!_ - and the contact lights a fire in her belly as she can really feel him, what their make-out is _doing_ to him, and is eternally grateful that she's already changed into the pencil skirt and a nicer blouse to go have dinner with her mom later, the new angle inadvertently causing the substantial bulge in his jeans to move against her now ruined, suddenly thin underwear.

"Ah!" She moans out loud, unbidden, as the clothed ridge of his - she's gonna guess _generous_ - cock rubs at her sensitive, poor hidden entrance, her head falling back only to have him take complete advantage, moving his attention from that mind-numbing area behind her ear to go down, tongue laving and teeth scraping along the column of her throat until he's kissing her clavicle, unbuttoning her blouse to reveal the lacy top of the underdress she has on because it's _cold_ out and she thinks ahead, and then going _straight_ at her breasts, holding one firmly in his large hand as he mouths at the other and before she could stop him, takes down the strap of her chemise, cool air hitting the hardened bud before he's quickly back and taking the flesh in with his teeth.

"Ohhh my go-" She moans, clutching his shoulders as they continue moving - essentially, this has become _glorified_ dry-humping - against one another and both their breathing starts getting rapid... and then she feels it. A light tingle. A warmth starting between her thighs and spreading towards her limbs and then it's like, _oh no_, she recognizes this sensation. Real well. It's never been quite like this and it's less familiar exactly than with actual, naked contact and/or self-pleasure but, she knows this. She knows what's coming.

_She_ is. She's about to cum in Jake Peralta's arms as he mouths her breasts and _dry humps_ her against a bunch of shelves in the darkened corridor of files at their workplace.

And she's too out of her mind to stop it.

_Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God-_

"Jake!" She yells, without meaning to, her voice high-pitched and startled as she trembles and spasms and bites her lip so hard that she thinks she draws blood, her leg muscles stiffening as she gives way to feeling and sensation and _oh boy_, if she can get this reaction with this, she can only imagine what could happen with real, skin-on-skin, glorious-

She starts coming back to earth, slowly, gradually, to realize that Jake is now spreading kisses over her skin and sighs, enjoying the attention, before taking a deep breath and leaning into her, nose nuzzling her throat and for a long beat, it's quiet, the only sounds in the air being their soft breathing as it goes back to normal. "Did you just-?"

"Yeah." She says, dropping her face onto his warm, muscled shoulder, wrapping her arms around him to get in her own cuddling because this is _really_ nice and she's trying not to be embarrassed. "I did. Thank you." She adds, voice muffled in his shirt, inhaling the subtle, masculine scent of him, a pleased sigh escaping her. "That's nice." She says out of nowhere, her mind relaxed and hazy as she roves a hand up the build of his back. "Is it cologne?"

"Yes." He responses with a chuckle, the sound husky and low in her eardrums. "I've been known every now and then to spritz on the good stuff before starting the day." He continues, amused, as big hands go up and down her own back.

She only laughs breathlessly against him as they enjoy this. Each other. This... feeling.

...

They do eventually get out from the evidence lock-up separately - her first and then, after a few minutes, him - and it's just like they never did anything. Like he hadn't just made her climax through their clothes. Like she doesn't now know what he could accomplish with touch and that mouth of his alone.

"Nice hickey, Santiago." Rosa says breezily, as she passes her, ever perceptive and Amy turns beet red, trying not to glance at Jake, who - as if it's a great idea - sits down next to her in the debriefing room and she feels her hands, that are lying flat on the table, twitch slightly and it gets even worse when half-way through, he reaches under the table and places his hand on her bare knee.

And keeps it there.

It makes her so distracted and fluttery in the stomach that the moment they are dismissed, she flies out of there and back to their shared desk to grab the rest of her stuff, though not before grabbing a hold of Gina's mirror and looking at herself and seeing that yup, Rosa's right on the money and she does have a hickey right behind her right ear and she kinda curses Jake because she's having dinner with her mother in half an hour and her usual updo is now out of the question.

"Hey." The devil himself steps in front of her just as she's leaving and she stops. "Where are you headed?"

"I'm having dinner with my mom."

"Nice." He smiles brightly. A strange, odd smile that causes alarm bells to go off inside her brain though, weirdly enough, she says nothing. "Where at?"

"Italian place near here." She answers, being purposefully vague but, smiles at him genuinely because it's sweet that he's interested and then looks down at her watch. "And I'm gonna be late so, I'll call you?" She adds hopefully, peering at him.

"Yeah." He nods, affection in his eyes and her tummy flips at the sight. "Yeah, we'll talk later."

There's a moment then - a moment where she's almost tempted to kiss him, just a peck on the cheek before she leaves but, she fights it and instead gives him a nod and leaves to the elevators, feeling his eyes on her the entire time.

...

al di la Trattoria is a nice Northern Italian restaurant that Amy remembers specifically taking her mother to on her fiftieth birthday and that Gloria Santiago - the pickiest of eaters on earth when it's not something she herself cooks - loves it from the appetizers all the way through dessert and now, since they don't see each other as much they'd like, she case any better place to take her and her mother proves as much when she becomes excited as they walk in.

And also, here's the crazy thing: Jake shows up.

And at the most inconvenient moment.

"Are you seeing anyone?" She lifts her head to see her mom giving her one of her looks that indicates she's hoping against hope that she is, in fact, dating and/or in a relationship.

And because the words - used so often in the past and with great agita - are nearly automatic coming out of her mouth. "I'm not-" Then she stops and thinks about it. Thinks about the way Jake smiles at her when they're alone. "Ah... maybe." She spots that familiar, hopeful glint in her mother's eye grow brighter. "Maybe. I don't know right now." The image of the roses - the rose that start it all - grow in her brain. ""I'm in a... good place right now." She adds, her voice sounding to her own ears, a little introspective before she nods and goes back to her food.

There's several minutes of silence after that and then. "Who is he?"

"Come on, Mom." She complains, food in her mouth, her fork collapsing onto her plate, the clattering sound of silver wear on porcelain signifying her impatience. "Not while we're eating."

"I'm just curious!" Gloria exclaims, throwing her arms out dramatically. "You're always just saying you are either seeing someone or you're not." She makes a balancing gesture with her hands before tossing it at her in a vague fashion and taking her wine glass. "I've just never seen you look the way you just did."

She will regret it but, she asks anyway. "Like what?"

"Like-"

"Amy!" A startlingly voice familiar calls behind her. "Fancy seeing you here."

And when she looks up, there's a double-take involved because Jake Peralta is standing there, dressed in a dark blue button-up - her _favorite_ on him - with a tie and dark pants and shoes that look suspiciously dress-like and his black leather jacket, smiling that _insufferably_ charming grin of his.

He looks handsome as hell.

And she wants to kill him. She's also happy to see him... but, she wants to kill him.

"Jake." She says through her teeth. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood." He responses easily, looking over at her mom.

She nods with certainty. "No, you weren't."

But, if he hears her, he doesn't show it and leans across the table, extending a hand towards Gloria. "And you must be Amy's mom." He greets, charisma dripping off of every syllable and _oh, son of a bitch, he's good,_ she thinks as her mom's expression beams brighter than any sun you could ever see. "I'm Jake Peralta."

"Yes! I'm Gloria, it's a pleasure to finally meet you!" She exclaims with excitement as they shake hands and Amy could almost cross her eyes at the pure joy radiating off the woman who birthed her. "My, my..." She adds with appreciation as she gives him a once-over. "... They sure don't make them like they used to..."

Her head snaps in her mother's direction. "Mom!"

"What?" Her mom harps right back before rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her wine. "It's true. Goodness, I'm married, not dead."

God, she could eat her own hair, she's so embarrassed right now.

"Mind if I join you ladies?" He asks as he laughs at Gloria's words, pulling out a chair and stating to sit next to her.

_Yes._ She thinks immediately but, says nothing and lets her mother enthusiastically answer _no_ for them because why, oh _why_ in the world would Gloria Santiago guess that it'd make her own daughter uncomfortable to have her much talked about partner share dinner with them?

It doesn't exactly turn out the way she originally thinks.

She sorta pictures, the moment Jake sits down, that he would hog all the attention and charm the pants off of her mom and keep her to the side as she drinks more and more into a weird, drunken rage.

It's a crazy thought. And also, she knows, completely unfair. Because of what's happening between them and his clear intentions towards her and her own growing feelings for him and it's just, god, so odd to have here, meeting her mother, no less!

And no, he doesn't do what she expects and does the exact opposite, including her in conversation and bringing up case stories and they both end up making her mom laugh, her stomach doing somersaults when she catches him looking at her openly, that big, toothy smile on his face as they all share a laugh, though at this moment his attention is strictly on her, dark, sparkling eyes catching her gaze and when he winks at her, she quickly looks away, blushing unaware of Gloria watching all this, smiling secretly to herself as she clears her throat. "Well..." They both look at her then. "...I'm headed to the ladies'. Won't be long." She says with a flourish before getting up and leaving them for the moment.

For a long beat after she's gone, there's a silence that fills the space between them before Jake speaks up. "So, your mom's nice-"

"Yes, she is." She finds some bravery within herself and turns to him. "Why are you here?"

"Why do you think I'm here?"

"To meet my mom. To prove something. What are you doing?" She hisses, not wanting to speak too loudly.

"To prove something?" He says slowly after a minute, nodding his head before turning fully towards her. "You think I'm here to prove something? After... everything?"

She stares at him, speechless, before opening her mouth to speak and when nothing comes out, she shakes her head. "I- I didn't-" Then, after taking a deep breath, she looks at him again. "You surprised me. I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"That was kinda my intention here." He says, peering into her face, before sighing and looking away and back again. "Amy, I like you. I really do. But, you need to start trusting me. Really trusting me." He locks her into his gaze, moving closer and grabbing her hand, the large enclosure of his fingers over hers, feeling nice and natural. "I'm here because I wanted to meet your mother and because I know you." That's said along with a pointed eyebrow raise. "I knew you wouldn't allow it and you wouldn't let me because you're still freaking out about... this." He gestures between them.

She just looks at him because she has no idea what to say and also, he's not wrong. Much. It's not something she allows herself to dwell on a lot. Their situation. The fact that everything is happening so fast and that they have a Valentine's date that could seal it all up and yeah, that does scare her some but, she does trust him... so much. It's taken her a while but, she does and he's been wonderful and good and romantic and her feelings are getting really out of control at this point.

And this. Here. Now. Charming and making her mom laugh is only showing her what a good idea to give in. All the way. Not only into a relationship but, a _future_... with him. With Jake.

He must sense the turmoil going on in her head because what he says next causes her heart to stop and her whole body to freeze up. "You want me to end this?" He asks, thinly veiled emotion in his eyes. "Want me to leave you alone? Forget this whole thing?" He leans even closer now and she can feel every breath near her lips. "You want me to stop? Huh? Amy?"

She can't breathe. She can't do a proper human function right now when he looks at her like that.

"I... I trust you." She's able to say after a quick glance at his lips. "I trust you. I'm sorry."

After Gloria returns just in time for dessert, they chat some more and Amy doesn't think twice about reaching under the table and holding onto Jake's hand the entire time, feeling herself relax more as she does and he pays for their - again, surprising the hell out of her - they end up outside and as her mother heads towards their car, she stays behind with Jake, standing face to face as she stuffs her cold hands in her pockets to protect them from the chilly air.

"Thank you for dinner." She says softly, staring up into his face illuminated by the golden street lights.

"You're welcome."

They keep looking at each other for a minute longer before he abruptly reaches into his jacket pockets. "Hold on, I actually... have something for you." He says, looking around a moment before pulling out a small, black triangular box.

"Another gift?" She can't even begin to contain the excitement in her voice as she sees the box.

He looks at her. "It's _the_ gift." He responses, handing her the box. "I just wanted to give you one last thing before our date."

_Date_. The word still makes her heart jump.

"Come on, open it." He gestures at her hands, an expectant look in his eye.

She smiles at him brightly before looking at the box - the weight of dark velvet in her hands - and opening it.

She lets out a gasp because inside the most beautiful necklace she's ever seen.

"Now, normally, I like the whole element of surprise as you may very well know but... I kinda wanted to see your face when you opened it."

It's a lovely gold filled chain, with the centerpiece being a glimmering plumeria charm that shines as she takes it out carefully, the chain swinging as she gazes at it. "It's so... beautiful." She manages breathily.

"Yeah." She hears him agree though when she looks at him, he's staring at _her_ and not the necklace. "Yeah, it is."

She flushes and looks back at her gift. "I can't believe you got me this." She says, feeling tears collect in her eyes.

"Well, I did." He says, stepping closer. "Want me to put it on?"

She nods immediately and turns around, lifting her hair out as he takes the necklace and laces over her neck with steady hands, sucking in air as he touches the bare skin of throat, trailing his fingers smoothing over her clavicle before he pulls away and she turns for him to see.

"Damn." He says, rubbing his thumb over lip. "I did good."

She lets herself laugh at that because there are _no words_ over how she's feeling right now.

"So..." He begins softly, gazing at her. "You like it?"

"I love it."

"I'm glad." He volleys back and then as he's stepping towards her again, he stops and looks behind them. "And your mom is watching us." He gives her mother a small wave as she blatantly peeps at them from her car window.

"Yeah, she does that."

He looks like he wants to kiss her then and she exhales sharply as he leans in closer, placing a hand on her hip and then planting a soft kiss on her cheek, right near her mouth, his scent taking over her senses and her eyes drifting shut because _yeah_. "Goodnight, Amy." He whispers in her ear before ever-so-slowly moving away, still looking at her with his expressive eyes as he backs away. "I'll see you tomorrow." He adds more loudly, winking at her before turning around.

"I'll just... ah... see you." She says lamely before heading towards her vehicle, head spinning, limb, shaking, her heart racing and trying her very best to ignore Gloria's excited chatter and questions once she's in her car.

...

**A/N: Soooo... Happy V-Day! For those of you who celebrate it and for those of you, like me, who don't *shrugs* well, at least you still get chocolate, right? ;)**

**Also, _al di la Trattoria_ is a real place - I could not have made that up - that specializes in Northern Italian cuisine and is located in Brooklyn's very own Park Slope and though, I've never been, the research I did on it made it sound goddamn delicious. And the necklace Jake gives Amy is from the jewelry company _Dogeared_ and you can just go on their website to research their lovely selection of jewelry and the piece I chose for this chapter is even better with a visual and you can also see what the necklace symbolizes on the site, if you want.**

**Just for those info nuts out there.**


	5. Valentine's Date

**Chapter 5:** Valentine's Date

**Author:** WriterGirl89

**Fandom:** Brooklyn Nine-Nine

**Rating:** M (sex, guys, because you earned it!)

**POV:** Third-Person

**Pairing:** Jake/Amy

**Summary:** Amy settles her thoughts with an unexpected source, Jake makes a request – and the anticipation of the date starts – and ends with a bang.

**Author's Note:** I LOVE YOU GUYS! For all the support, feedback, and every single alert that took time out of your day to send to me and then, waiting on my dumb, enthusiastic responses and also my updates, which I think I've been _pretty_ okay with and I wanna thank you all for everything you've done for me and please enjoy the last chapter of this story (despite how_ late_ it is)!

**Disclaimer:** For the last time, I don't own nor am associated with B99 and Andy Samberg isn't locked up in my basement because I don't have one - he's in the shed.

...

Amy's pretty sure she's starting to get sick – with, like, _Happy Face Syndrome_ or something - because … She. Can. Not. Stop. Smiling. And it is really starting to get ridiculous and people are also starting to notice, though they say nothing, except for Boyle because he's Boyle and he's all about personal stuff and doesn't stop himself from asking her one day as she and him are processing the stock from a successful drug bust.

"You're smiling a lot lately." He observes idly as they do their work. "Something going on?"

She just shrugs, trying hard to tramp down her ever-present grin, her face getting hot as she thinks about her plans for the next night. "Maybe." She says, biting her lip to keep a giddy giggle – a _giggle_! – from escaping her.

"Well, I'm glad." She looks at up at her friend to see him give her a smile. An odd, knowing smile that makes her _instantly_ suspicious. "Hope your plans turn out well."

And yeah, the ensuing ackward eye twitch that she _assumes_ is supposed to pass for a wink makes her feeling even worse.

"Did you tell Charles about us?" She blurts to Jake later after she seats down at their shared desk, the words just bursting from her mouth, though keeping it low enough that no one would hear, not enough realizing her use of the term _us_ until way after it's out of her mouth and she can't - might not want to - take it back.

His head snaps up from his laptop. "Hello to you, too, Amy." He responds in his typical Peralta manner, a lift to the side of his mouth that causes her to simultaneously want to slap or kiss it off his face.

She tilts her head, giving him look to propel him to not bullshit her right now. "Did you?"

"Mmm..." He hums and - she knows him well enough to recognize - pretends to think about it, complete with eye squinting _and_ scratching of a chin. "... I might have." His eyes slide to her, catching her give him one of her many looks and seeing that the jig is already up, he just sighs and gazes at her earnestly. "He maybe helped me pick out your necklace." He admits begrudgingly, quietly, sucking in his bottom lip like a frightened small child and then casting a glance to said piece of jewelry hanging around her neck and that she now wears to work ever since he'd given it to her after that surprising dinner - the phantom sensation of his long, slightly broad fingers skimming across her skin and his hot breath in her hair as he clamps the chain on from behind her still a recurring fixture in her dreams with... other things.

"What?"

"I mean, you know..." His voice wavers and he seems to be scrambling for an explanation and scratches at his scalp. "Charles is a lot more romantic than I am." He admits, her heart softening as he gives her a helpless look. "And you..." He sighs, looking around before leaning in as far as the desk would allow. "You're great. Like, incredible. And I didn't wanna screw up that gift because you deserve the best." He adds, an expression like yearning sweeping across his face. "So, yeah, I asked Boyle to help me."

She stares at him, heart pounding and her mouth dry as she takes this all in.

Then, he's leaning back in his chair, the vibe back to normal again. "Besides, you don't have to worry about him telling anybody." He tells her, casually playing with a pen on his side of their desk. "I actually threatened to never be his friend again and - you shoulda seen his _face_ - he straight-up almost cried."

She throws a ball of paper at his head, even as he cackles at his own remark.

...

She doesn't even realize that she's gone back to being Ms. Smiley 'til Rosa confronts her as they wait in the early evening sunset in an unmarked police vehicle, waiting on a known dealer to meet their informant, the other woman's voice sounding harsher then usual.

"Oh my God!" She exclaims out of nowhere and Amy is almost startled by it, nearly dropping her bag of chips on the floorboards. "Stop it!"

"Stop what?" She asks through a mouthful of tortilla chip. _Pretty_ sure she cut the inside of her cheek on one.

"Smiling." Her partner for the time being says in her normal deadpan fashion. "You've been smiling all through those chips. You look like a chipmunk. Enough already." She threatens, before focusing her attention to the job at hand.

She grimaces at the comparison, nods and slowly swallows the overflow of tortilla chips, carefully letting it go down her throat before grabbing her bottle of water in the cup holder and tossing it back.

It's just a minute of silence between them before Rosa turns to her again, a lone eyebrow raised. "But, seriously, though, what's up? You've been grinning from ear to ear all day. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." She answers immediately because it's true. There's nothing wrong going on. She just- "I have a date tomorrow." She hears herself blurt, suddenly not being able to contain it and frowns at her outburst.

"Nuh-ah." The darker-haired woman mutters before saying. "No one, no matter who, looks that happy if they're just going to dinner with some random guy."

She feels herself get defensive at Rosa's knowing tone. Whether for herself or Jake, she's not sure but, she is. "It's not a random guy."

"Mmm-hmm. Okay."

She feels herself frown deeper, her heckles coming up. "It's not."

"I believe you."

She knows it. She knows what Rosa is pulling but, she _still_ goes for the bait. "It's not a random guy." She tries saying calmly, close to annoyance.

"Sure, Santiago."

"It's not."

"Right. Fine."

"It's not a random guy!" She nearly yells, her temper getting the best of her. "It's Jake!"

It takes her a while to realize what she just said but, when she does, Amy immediately clamps a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. "Ohh!" And now, after her talk with Jake earlier - God, she's such a hypocrite!

The other woman just starts laughing, her normal cackle several beats higher. "Seriously? Peralta? You're going on another date with Peralta and you're happy about it?"

Her embarrassment of her loss of control quickly diminishes as she processes Rosa's almost mocking words, hands falling away from her face. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Did you lose another bet?"

"No."

"He blackmailing you?"

"No!" She vehemently denies, her voice an octave higher than it should be. "God, Rosa! No! It's just a date!" She reiterates forcefully, her face burning. "It's a date. A real date-date..." She says more calmly looking at Rosa. "A date I'm going on because I want to." She adds, feeling an epiphany coming on. "A date I wanna go on with Jake because... I like him."

Rosa stares at her and for a long beat, it's just the two women staring each other down before she shrugs and turns her focus to the windshield. "Took ya long enough."

_What?_ "What?"

"Took ya both long enough. For Peralta to get his head out of his own ass long enough to ask you out. And for you to stop being soo blind to the man who's said ass you now literally _own_." Rosa sates matter-of-factly, her tone broking no room for argument.

"I don't own-" She feels herself say before catching it, thinking hard, and taking it for the team. "Um... thank you. Does-Does this mean you-?"

"Just let me know if he hurts you so, I can shoot him, 'kay?" The leather jacket-clad detective asks rhetorically, giving her a serious look. "I have guns. A shitload of them."

A beat follows and then.

"Thanks... again." She responses hesitantly because it _is_ nice of her and then, just because. "It won't be necessary but, I appreciate it."

"Good."

They sit in the car in complete silence after that.

...

On Valentine's Day morning, Amy Santiago wakes up to bright sun beaming through her shades and after opening one of her windows to check, a cool breeze and for the first time since ever, she sits in her grey linen robe over her nightie at her kitchen counter, scarfing down her neighbor Beth's infamously delicious red velvet pancakes with that lovely drizzling of icing syrup - Beth'd been under the impression, like most other people who know her, that she would be going solo on V-Day and she recalls waking up to a care package of still warm pancakes along with it's accoutrements on her front door as she goes to grab her paper and yeah, the heart shapes she could do without but, they're just _so good_ - and then, humming at her wonderful breakfast and reflecting on the day ahead.

She has a date. On Valentine's Day. With Jake Peralta. In eight hours.

She lets out a sigh as she contemplates what it is he might have planned for them.

He's done good so far. Not too little, not too much. Just enough.

And she could not wait to see what he has in mind for her.

Because she definitely knows what she has in mind for _him_.

She's been enjoying the gestures. Gifts. The surprises. And cannot help but, anticipate what else he could do for her and them as a couple, in a real relationship, and that yeah, she maybe, in the past, underestimates him in that arena because as far as she knows, he doesn't do relationships as much as everyone else and it would never occur to her then it's just because he doesn't care.

Doesn't care until now, that is. She thinks. She won't flatter herself into thinking she's so special that he's only thinking about things in a more serious slant only for her but, she still feels it. Special, that is... to him. It's nice. It's a nice feeling to feel that way. Something she doesn't remember feeling a lot in past relationships.

But, then again, now that she thinks about it, Jake seems to always do that to her. Even before... this. Everything. It's just taken her too long to figure out the pattern until now.

After she finishes her breakfast and gets dressed, her keys in hand, and steps out of her building, her purse swinging over her shoulder, the last thing she expects is to find the object of her thoughts waiting on her, smiling broadly, leaning against his car, dressed in his usual casual garb of Converse, hoodie, and leather jacket.

It still jacks up her heart all the same, anyway.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, smiling nonetheless, at the sight of him.

"To get you this!" He exclaims, extracting a to-go mug from his back and extending it to her and she takes it from him with a small laugh, taking an immediate sip because her coffee maker is broken so, ugh. "I got it, right? Vanilla latte with extra vanilla?"

Of course, he gets it right. He always gets it right. Not gonna say it out loud but, she knows this for a fact as pure, caffeinated heaven goes down her throat. "Mmm. Yup, you sure did." She says slowly, lids dropping, inhaling deeply at the new warmth in her bones.

When she opens her eyes again, he's staring at her and the expression in his eyes is enough to cause her heart palpitations. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just..." He ducks his head briefly with a half-smile. "...You're really, really... um... something." He mutters loud enough for her to hear.

She doesn't know why but, the simple compliment further brightens her and when they get to work in his car, she kisses him - quick, lingering, punctuating - on the lips, hand firm on the back of his neck, his lips immediately responsive before she pulls away and gives him a wink before walking ahead of him into the station, exerting an extra swing in her hips because she knows he's watching her and it serves him right, too, 'cause he's not the only one that gets to do all the surprising.

They end up with so much work and never again get even one moment alone together again that Amy nearly forgets about their plans later until it's nearly dark, Jake's already gone, and she's nose-deep in a report when Holt calls her into his office and she frowns, looking at the clock, and then goes to her boss's office.

"Sir?"

The older man looks at from his dark-framed glasses, stoic as can be. "Go home, Santiago."

"Wha-?" She starts to say before catching herself. "I have to fini-"

"No." He shakes his head and shuts her up. "You have plans for tonight, I'm assuming?"

Then, she remembers. Jake. The date. How could she forget? "Yes. I do, in fact."

"As do I." He responses, his expression the most pleasant she's ever seen it - though he could be just having a lip twitch because despite saying otherwise, she's really not getting any better at this. "So, go. You can finish your work on Monday." She nods, not arguing, before turning to leave just as he says. "I'm sure Peralta's impatiently waiting."

And that makes her pause and she slowly turns right back around. "Pardon?"

"I said..." He starts off, his no-nonsense look back on. "... Peralta must be impatiently waiting for you."

"Sir, I'm not sure what you-"

"I know, Amy." And the use of her first name from the Captain's lips is so unexpected that she is struck speechless. And despite the fact that they couldn't sound less alike, he almost reminds her of her father with the stern yet still slightly affectionate tone. "I know because Peralta barged in here in a nervous fit a few weeks ago and asked if it was inappropriate if a _friend_ of his were to theoretically persue something with a _partner_ he has." She might add he actually finger quotes the part when he mentions Jake's so-called _"friend"_ and his _"partner"_ and she might laugh if she's not so busy calculating the beginning of his confession.

_A few weeks?_ She thinks, turning everything in her mind. _How long has he been planning all this?_ It's not something she ever thinks to put much stock into. How long he's been feeling the way he does. How long he's been making up his mind to do something about it.

The answer that comes to mind vividly shocks her to the core and she could be wrong but-

_Few weeks, huh?_ "And uh, how long ago was this?"

Holt has that wise, knowing look on his face as he answers her, confirming her suspicions completely. "The 29th of last month. I remember it well because Peralta seems to have a sweating problem when he's nervous and I had half a mind to take a photo as evidence."

Again, she could laugh - should laugh because that is a good one - but, doesn't, her mind reeling... and she wants to get to that date as_ fast_ as she can.

"Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much. You've been a big help!" She exclaims, running out the door. "Bye!"

...

Amy looks at herself, turning at angles, in the mirror, taking in the new, red dress that she finds earlier as she arrives to get ready for the date, surprised when she finds the beautiful new outfit - in a much deeper, warmer shade than her Holt birthday party dress - in the big white box, a simple not from Jake asking her to wear it for him tonight and now that she's wearing it, she has even more questions as to how he figures this stuff.

It fits her perfectly - like a glove, indeed - and the peplum-style skirt reaches just above her knee, the sweetheart neckline making decent use of her boobs into pretty _bangin'_ cleavage, and the fluttery short sleeves are a nice finish on it and she does another spin check herself a little more, smiling as she enjoys the moment.

Along with the dress, she'd taken the liberty of using some new make-up she hasn't had a chance to use as well some new perfume to spritz on top of the usual tin of solid vanilla perfume she usually wears and that Jake seems to like - she recalls heated words said against her skin during that memorable romp in a certain evidence lock-up and only keeps it as proof for later - and even makes use of a pair of simple diamond studs she'd gotten for her birthday.

She feels... good. Beautiful. Special. Sexy.

She gives herself an encouraging smile, a slight _floof_ of the dark hair hanging in a loose style to her shoulders - because she knows Jake likes it that way - and then grabbing her coat and purse on the way out the door, high heels clacking on the old, wooden floor as she bounces outside.

And finds Charles there - dressed like some version of a limo driver.

"Boyle?"

"Your carriage awaits, milady!" He exclaims by way of greeting and she realizes that he's standing against to an actually nice-looking town car as he gestures towards it like an odd showman, that usual eager-to-please expression written on his face. "Nice, huh? Helped Jake pick it out!"

"You're driving me?!" She asks, despite the obvious evidence in front of her, the corners of her mouth lifting uncontrollably as she steps closer to the black, glossy vehicle and Boyle opens a door for her, though before doing so, stepping back and looking at him. "Jake is paying you for this, right?"

"Um..." He responds, looking lost and more than baffled. "We haven't really discussed-"

She just shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she steps into the car. "Oh my God."

...

_"He said to go up to the roof?"_

_"Yup. Directions says specifically, 'tell her to go up to the roof'."_

And that's basically how Amy finds herself back at her precinct and going up the stairs leading up the roof of said station, the mostly darkened area of her workplace making her uneasy, though she forces calm into her bones, knowing every step would lead her to Jake and once she's finally up to the door of the roof, she breathes in and out, opening it and stepping into the cool air outside.

The first thing she notices right off the bat is the lighting and finds that there are several lanterns lining the edge of the roof and it's really nice and she can hear something (_is that music?_) and it sounds familiar and as she follows it, she finds-

Jake.

He's standing next to a dining table, dressed to the nines in all black in a button-up and pants and boots, except for a tie that's almost exactly the same color as her dress and her heart wants to pop out of her chest as he stands there, looking handsome, hands clasped in front of him like a school boy, seeming - for the first time since this all started - nervous and it gives her a fluttery feeling like a million butterflies on her stomach.

"Hey." He says, that Peralta grin spreading over his lips and giving her heart failure as per usual. "You look..." His eyes rove over her in that way he's become an expert at and it causes a promising heat to settle in her lower belly. "... wow, God... You're gorgeous..." She feels her face burn when he says that and it must show, even in the dim lighting because he takes one look at her and says. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass-"

"No, it's fine." She says, not wanting him to feel sorry for finding her attractive just because she can't get her shit straight and come to terms with the fact that he not only wants her but, likes her. Holds an interest in her like he does. "Don't, I'm not-" She sputters over her words to high heaven before saying honest and coherent. "I'm just not... used to this. Yet. I mean, still. I guess."

When she meets his eye again, he's giving her a look. That combination of heat, tenderness, affection, and pure _desire_ that never fails to weaken her knees and when he steps closer to her, the feeling gets a lot worse and _oh Jesus_, when he trails his fingertips down her arms-

Then, they're weaving up and towards her face, cupping her cheeks and he's leaning in and kissing her, her lips parting on instinct, and although it's nice and deep, it's still doesn't seem to be enough and she finds herself chasing his lips when he pulls way, her hands clutching his wrist.

He gazes at her, eyes dark and expressive. "Let's go sit down."

She nods, momentarily robbed of speech and letting him lead them towards the dining table, that she now sees is set up with white table cloth, lit candles, dinner wear, and nice-looking cutlery and utencils and she smiles at Jake when he pulls out her chair for her to sit. "Thanks." She now spots the band of men on the opposite side of them, playing violins. "You got a band?"

"Yup." He nods, pouring her the red wine sitting on ice at the table and her smile brightens further, reaching for it to take a sip.

"You remembered I like red?"

He chuckles, nodding again as he finishes up the pour and then leaning back, the close-lipped quirk of his mouth, along with the dark glimmer of his stare sexy and alluring in the candlelight and the promising heat starts blazing, directing itself towards him. "I remember a lot about you." He says with an earnestness that melts her right then and there and she tilts her head, holding onto that stare before his ears turn red and he ducks his head, the quirk expanding into a wide, toothy smile and the sight is so beautiful to her then that she has trouble breathing. "Jake, I-"

But, whatever she has to say is interrupted because an actual waiter arrives - another surprise for her this evening - and lets them know that their meals will be arriving soon and she glances at Jake, who gives her a secretive grin and not long after that, two more waiters appear, carrying two covered plates that they remove to reveal their food and she gasps as she sees a lightly cooked filet mignon cut on her plate along with a side of mashed potatoes and green beans. "Ohhh!" She exclaims, not even remotely embarrassed at the especially girly, high-pitched squeal escaping her vocal chords. "This looks amazing! How did you know I wanted to try this?!"

He shrugs, digging into his own filet - only his is more browned with a dark sauce on top and she could tell it's piping hot when he cuts into it. "You told me."

She cocks her side, wracking her brain as to when she could have told him this. "I did?"

"Yeah." He nods, taking a bite of his food. "Hmm." He hums briefly, enjoying it and then. "Anyway, it was on a stake-out-"

"Which one?"

He just shrugs again, grabbing the wine bottle and popping it open. "Hell if I know. I didn't even realize how much I knew about you 'til I was planning this whole thing and I'm not the only who could overshare." He tips his chin towards her half-way empty glass and she then realizes that she's been mindlessly drinking while they'd been talking. "More wine?"

"Yes. Thank you." He starts pouring and she stops him when it only has a small amount at the bottom. "That's good." She wants to still have her wits about her tonight and not ruin anything because her need to jump him is getting worse and worse with every sip of alcohol.

A silence follows - a not entirely comfortable yet not awkward silence that takes into account the_ momentous_ energy between them - and for a while, she lets it go, allowing herself to, for once, not overanalyze and nitpick at every square inch of this and simply enjoy what's looking to be one of the best dates of her adult life with the man who, just months ago, she would never think would do this for her and savoring the most buttery, softest cut of meat she's ever had.

Though, after that time is up, she can't take it anymore and asks the very thing that's been percolating in her brain since she left this very precinct earlier for this exact date. "Jake?" He looks up at her, giving her his undivided attention and she almost chickens out as his eyes - those intense, knowing eyes - lock on her, her nerves nearly getting the best of her. "How... How long have you been planning this?"

He finishes and swallows his food and waits, watching as he gulps some of his wine and leans back in his chair, a weirdly contemplative expression on his face, gaze now on the candles between instead of on her. "Remember the bet?"

Without thinking, she rolls her eyes, taking her wine glass. "How could I forget?"

"Remember the date?"

"You mean the first half of what was supposed to be the worst date of my life? Yup, I remember that, too."

"Well..." He trails off and looks at her pointedly, eyes begging her to understand and when she finally does, she can't comprehend it because that was over a month ago and he can't have-

"No."

"Yes."

"Oh my God." Her face sinks into her palms before she has enough courage to look him, words muffled against her hand. "That was a month ago."

"Yeah." He nods.

"How did you-?"

"Boyle."

She feels her face scrunch up. "Boyle?"

"Uh-huh." He takes another drink of his wine before continuing. "The night of that date when we went to the bar and you had gone off to the bathroom, I had a moment with Charles and you know, he was on that truth bomb drug cocktail and he, uh, told me that..." He smiles as if in recollection. "... Nobody planned a date so elaborately like I had unless they liked the person." He meets her eye and dips his chin, an honest smile on his lips. "He basically said I was pulling your pigtails."

"Pulling my pig-?" She stops, confused, baffled, until something else becomes clearer still. "The relief team." She says almost to herself.

"What?"

She blinks herself back to life and looks at him, stumbling through an explanation. "I, uh... Holt told me the day after our... He thanked me for saying no to the relief team that night on the roof."

There's a long beat after that and several different types of emotions cross Jake's face as he processes it and she waits patiently until he's able to speak again. "I figured you found that out." He then says slowly, nearly to himself but, she hears him fine.

"Pardon me?"

He looks back at her, gives her a knowing nod. "I'm a detective, Amy." He says pointedly in a deadpan fashion. "You started acting weird right after your meeting with Holt and you kept looking like you wanted to tell me something and I almost wanted to ask what the hell was wrong with you and I figured you-" He shakes his head suddenly, chuckling. "Jesus, we're really bad at this."

She honestly does not expect to burst into tears after that and then, he's there, at her side immediately, trying to ask what's wrong and the concern in his voice causes her crying to somewhat cease and for her hands to stop shaking enough to grab a hold of the back of his neck and propel him towards her as she leans in to kiss him and the experience is soo searing and electric that when they pull back from each other, she's trembling with need, clutching at his shirt, and he's breathing hard, eyes dark and glittering, his hands large and warm on her waist, her own vibrating and unsteady on the strong set of his shoulders.

"You wanna..." She able to say after a few seconds of harsh breathing. "...go back to my apartment?" She asks a little shyly, hands traveling from the wide berth of his shoulders to the thrumming pulse of his neck down to his firm chest where his heart races. "What do you say?"

...

"Okay." Amy finds herself saying to her reflection later, having left Jake in her apartment to roam as he pleases because her nerves are killing her and it's weird and she feels hot and tingly and anxious and it's been soo long since she's had sex - like real _sex_ sex and not like dumb, unsatisfying third-base bullshit she's been giving to only a few of her good dates in the past - and god, she could be so rusty and could disappoint him or-

"Amy?"

She dunks back into reality at the sound of his voice nearby. "Coming!"

She undies the clips in her hair, fluffing her hair out further, and letting it loose over her shoulders before stepping out of her bathroom and seeing Jake leaning against her kitchen counter examining her knife block and yeah, her heart starts to speed double-time and she could not tell you why.

"Find anything interesting?"

His eyes move from his point of fascination to her and immediately pushes away from the counter and walks towards her, his stride lazy and just predatory enough for her spine to instinctively get straighter and keep eye contact with him as he advances on him and then , he's on her, leaning in and the kiss they share is slow, deep, and full of sensual anticipation that causes her to tremble again as he pushes her against the wall, big hands sliding up and over her waist to align their hips better and a wave of arousal dampens her when she feels him - hard and ready - against her and she explores the structure of his arms as he settles for kissing her neck, pillow-y lips trailing up and down the side of her neck and the area behind her ear.

"Uh..." She loses thought as he sets one of her legs over his hip then moves up to cup her breasts through her dress. "You wanna... okay, wow... go to... bedroom?" She manages through gasping as he grinds into her, the hardness there promising hours of a good time and soreness the next morning because really, it has been a while for her and she's really excited to see how he would end this particular drought.

He stops the, chuckles against her skin, and after spending more time on that area of her ear, sucking hard enough to bruise, he pulls back and steps away from her, that once insufferable - now, _jesus christ_, sexy - smug grin on his face and sweeps out an arm. "Lead the way, detective."

She ducks her head, blushing before walking ahead of him, grabbing his hand in the process, and as he suggests, leading him to her bedroom.

The mattress is turned down and she's thankful that she chooses that very same very morning to change up her normal floral bedspread and crochet quilt to the off-white and cream one she'd received from friends a few months ago and the musky vanilla air freshener she likes to spray all over her apartment before leaving for work is lingering especially well here and the matching candle next to the bed is burned out and she thinks maybe, subconsciously, she knows this would happen or-

"Amy." The man about to sample up her bedspace comes up behind her and circles his arms around her waist and she can't help but, lean into him as she feels brush his nose into her hair, lips near her ear. "Anything you wanna say to me?" The words are low, almost growl-y in a way she'd never heard from him before and it makes everything spin and her heart to pound harder in her heart and she feels herself grow faint but, very, _very_ excited.

Feeling a sudden boldness coming from the erotic charge in the air, she grabs a hold of it and says. "I... want you." And yes, she could roll her eyes at the safe term she uses but, from the way Jake becomes harder against her ass and grips her hips tighter, it seems work just fine and she really has no thought for the words until they are out of her mouth and then, he's turning her head and coaxing her into a kiss, that big mouth and tongue of his sliding over and into hers and she moans, turning in his arms to clutch him further into him because god, this is good, he's a good kisser and has a taste to him she still cannot place; a touch of spice along with a zing of mint and his lips are soft and full and she could do this all day.

Feeling like she hast wake up a little, she opens her mouth under his and breathes him in as he wraps his arms around her entire frame. Surrounded by Jake Peralta. Something she doesn't even realize she wants 'til very recently and yet, here she is, surrounding herself with him. The softness of his lips. The langorous movement of his tongue. The strength and muscles of his body. The size of his hands on her back. The smell of his cologne on his clothes.

It's all too much but, still not enough.

Before her nerves could return, she starts unbuttoning his shirt - quick enough to calm her impatience; slow enough to not wreck the moment - and once it's open, without breaking their kiss, he helps her take it off and she'll all too grateful he chose not to wear t-shirt underneath as he tends to do and lays her hands flat on the planes of his chest that's all firm and muscle-y and downy hair and when she light scratches her nails down his chest, he mutters something that sounds like a swear but, he's also sliding his hands up her back and coming down again as he unzips her dress, those broad-fingered hands coming into contact finally with the bare skin of her back and she sighs into his mouth.

Time stops, suspending itself, as she tears her mouth from his and takes a step back.

And he just stands there, breathing heavily, frowning briefly and she catches a small glimpse of disappointment before it's gone quickly and he opens his mouth to say something and she's already gathering her courage and tugs at her dress, the top half pooling briefly at her waist before she slips the whole thing down her bare legs, revealing the almost but, not quite matching red lingerie set underneath of an especially lacy bra and tiny panties.

(And see, when she says she's thought about going to bed with Jake, she's not kidding. But, in her head, it's... different. It's either a drunken - maybe sober - one-night-stand or better yet, a series of spontaneous encounters that they are able to write off and he would get his introduction to her body in the form of her utilitarian white cotton underwear set and she'd takes cues from him and any kind of affection she may be feels for him has to go by the wayside in order to sleep with him and anyway, _this_. _This_ right here, is a lot better than anything she could imagine.)

And the tug at his lips, the fire in his almost back eyes, as he looks her over, fills up with a whole lot of lust and hunger and warms her belly and then he's coming back to her, closing the distance between them and replacing his hands on her waist, thumbs circling on her skin. "You're beautiful."

"Mmm." She hums, curling into him because he's warm and firm and male, a total contradiction to her softness and curves.

"You really are." He says, as if to drive his point home, as his hands go around her back, unfastening the lace bra with ease and then leaning back to watch his work as he draws the straps down her shoulders.

The bra falls between them and onto the floor in a whisper.

She can't help it. The nerves come back full-force and she unconsciously hugs her arms to her chest, though meeting his eyes as they go to hers, a flash of disapproval flashing in that instance at her gesture. "Am I?"

He draws her close again, fingers gentle as he removes her arms her wrists from it's defensive pose, his breath hot on her forehead when he kisses her hairline and she has to close her eyes at the tenderness of it all. And his voice. God, it's even more- He sounds so earnest and serious. Like he's speaking absolute truth and she shouldn't argue with him. "You_ are_ the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She shivers at the intensity of his voice, shielding her face from his with the curtain of her hair, her skin flushing despite his words but, allows him to remove her arms completely and pull away slightly and the weight of his gaze on her, warming her.

Stealing her resolve, the sudden rise of confidence in her, she lifts her eyes to his, smoothing her hands over the build of his arms, the firmness of his chest, down the subtle ripples of his stomach. "You want me, too, right?" She asks, going at his pants, undoing them with quick fingers.

"You know I do." He answers hoarsely, pulling her tighter into his body, the straining bulge evident of his body's reaction to her and she forgets everything when he leans down, kissing her again, breath harsh and ragged. "God, I do. For way _too fucking long_." And she feels that scrap of lace covering her flood with moisture as every inch of his body presses towards her and she moans as she tilts her head back as his lips travel over her jaw and neck and grabs at him, nails scraping at his chest and his back as he steps out of his pants entirely, still locked in their embrace.

Not thinking twice, she presses her hand to his underwear; black boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination and Jake's erection seems to matter above all else right now - hard, warm, solid, and _promising_ - and feels proud when his hips jerk forward and then, he's lifting her, grabbing her thighs up and she wastes no time in wrapping her legs around him... and gasps at the feeling of him pressed intimately against her.

He groans and they hold still for a minute.

And then, they're moving again and he's landing on top of her on the bed, his weight solid and wonderful, tearing at each other, her fingers threading through his hair as his into her panties, lone digit sliding in and then immediately after, another joining it and she gasps again, a hissing breath leaving her, the sound high-pitched.

"Jake..." She's able to let out, rocking into his touch.

And then, he leans down, pulling an errand nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting on it, he strokes her, voice muffled and husky when he speaks. "God, you're excited. Oh, Amy..."

"Oh, God..."

And then, he's pulling his fingers out, making her out cry out at the sudden emptiness, a sound that he swallows up with his mouth, kissing her, tongue deep, lips passionate on hers before slowing it down, making her breathless, the room devoid of air momentarily before he trails his lips onto her cheek, her jaw, behind her ear, biting the lobe, and then down to her throat, putting teeth into his kisses as she spreads her hands over the back of his neck and his shoulderblades as he dotes on her, crawling down the bed, hooking hands into her underwear, fingers skimming her skin the whole way before he throws them across the room without looking, and she watches as he finally gets to his destination, spreading her thighs and keeping his eyes on her as he lowers his mouth to her folds, hands spreading her open to him.

She gasps, arching up, the first touch of his tongue making buck up but, the firm grip on her hips tightens and pin her as he goes to work and she feels every tingle of electricity coursing through her limbs multiply with just a flick of his tongue, that big mouth of his getting down on her hard, her fingers desperately grasping her sheets and the first slide of his fingers into her makes her shudder, his tongue and teeth and fingers working together to pleasure her going directly to her head.

Sweat gathers on her skin.

And, oh dear god, he's good, his mouth missing _no_ part of her, fingers and tongue touching her just right and - _Oh, god!_

"Jake... I'm almost... Ohh, god, yes... right... there..." She sounds, even to her own ears, desperate, striving for orgasm, fervent for it but, at the same time not wanting this to end. Not at all. Goodness, who knew Jake Peralta's mouth could work for something other than sarcasm and sweet talking?

He licks at her bundle of nerves skillfully, sucking it, drawing it into his mouth, teasing it, and she could feel every lick and taste he takes of her and he laps at her voraciously, thumbs digging so hard into her hips that she knows she'll have bruises the next day but, she can't be bothered to give a damn as she goes_ hurtling_ towards release, hips arching and bucking under his grasp, hands coming up and covering the scream from her throat. Drowning her in it's wake. Both her arms coming up over her head once the scream subsides and she is left, only to stare blindly at the ceiling in the ensuing quiet following the storm of her climax, her breath heavy and hard to catch as Jake climbs up at her body, spreading kisses all over her flesh in the reverse order as he heads back up, humming as he teases a nipple with his teeth and she could nothing but, shudder as he does, a spike of arousal letting her body they're nowhere near done.

"God, you're sweet." He murmurs and before she could do anything he's back again, kissing her slowly, just enough until her breath settles and her heartbeat relaxes against his, her fingers slipping into his thick, short hair as they slide their tongues over one another before just as slowly pulling away, though he keeps himself close, body covering hers and she realizes that, at some point, he's taken off his boxer-briefs and she can feel - for the first time - him naked and still hard near her thigh and the skin-on-skin contact is enough to bring her body back to life, though the fiery need to tear him apart moments earlier is now replaced by a much more earthy, bone-deep passion that nevertheless stirs her to move, undulate against him to let him know what she wants.

They lock eyes, hot breath bursting over hers, and he keeps them there, gaze intent on her own, fingers trailing up her jaw, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear and besides the question in his dark stare, she notices something else. A shift. Between them. And it's not just need and lust and want anymore. There's a fluidity of revolving emotions - lust, gentleness, need, desire, want, sweetness, aching, hunger, longing, craving - mixed with all that affection and tenderness.

No one. No man has ever looked at the way Jake's looking at her now.

And all of it. Every single bit of fear she may have had over this thing with them... disappears.

She might admit to being afraid of her feelings for him before, but she can also openly say she's not anymore.

She trusts him now completely. With her body. As well as her heart.

Firmly kissing him, she reaches down, shifting so that she cradles him between her legs, her fingers curling around the most generous - she guessed right - erection she's seen in recent years, the groan escaping him heaven to her ears, and again, his penetrating eyes lock on her as he shifts, muscles in his arms bunching up, as she leads him to her entrance, though he stops short just before his goal, breathing heavily once more. "Condom?"

She pauses, clears the haze in her brain to register his question, then shakes her head in response. "No, I trust you." She does. "Plus, I'm... covered." She nods, mentally cataloguing her calendar and remembering her most doctor's office.

He nods, relief washing over his face. "Pill?"

She shakes her head. "IUD."

It takes him a minute. Then, he nods, understanding dawning on his expression. "Okay." He says, smile on his face. "Even better."

She lets out a breathless laugh, her own smile breaking. "Great. Come here." And pulls him down again for a kiss.

And like that, the mood is back and after a few minutes of kissing, the next shift of his hips has him -_ finally_ - entering her, hissing as his thickness opens her up, and oh great, the fact that she's closed up shop a bit comes back to her, and yeah, this could give new credence to the idea of her being a virgin to Jake.

But, feeling her tense up, he simply rests his forehead against her, panting harshly as he tries controlling himself and she breathes in and out, soothing the new tension in her body and he strokes at her hips, caressing her bare skin. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah." She nods, reassuring him, despite the strained breathy quality of her voice. "It's just... been a while."

"I can tell. Here." He kisses her and she makes a small sound in the back of her throat as his fingers go down towards where he's gently rocking inside her and starts rubbing her and as she starts relaxing, he steadily gets deeper. Making her fell full. Stretched out. In the best possible way.

She groans into his mouth. Then moans along with his name escaping her lips.

Then, he's pushing all the way in and she breaks their lips apart entirely, gasping at the feeling and he pauses, mumbling an apology at her hairline, pressing his lips there, moving strands off of her temples, the expression on his face so soulful and tender it hurt her heart to see it. The kind of look one would give to somebody they don't just like and she feels a ball grow in her throat at the thought.

And then, he starts moving inside her and she moans at the pleasure enveloping her, a slow, sweet rhythm building between them, trying to keep their eyes on each other.

She feels a flutter in her belly.

It's all around her. In her. Along with Jake. Warmth rushing through her veins. Sensation taking over. Their feeling making this... more.

And as it all seems to build up, coming to a crescendo, until he has no words for her and there's just grunts with every thrust and she throbs at every turn, clenching and fluttering around him as she comes tumbling for a second time and clutches Jake's face, keeping his eyes locked on hers, feeling the tenseness of his body, the bulging muscles in his arms, the sweat on his brow.

His breathing speeds up, in gusts that stir the hair over her forehead and she sees him grit his teeth and bare his throat, straining, and she rocks against him. Squeezes him tighter. "Jake." She simply says in a husky whisper.

"Fuck. Amy." The guttural voice causes her to clench in response and he thrusts into her, hips driving forward and then doing it again and then, he's twitching and jerking, spasming as he buries himself within her once more, coming inside her willing body and she holds on, his back arched and arms straining 'til they finally give way when he collapses on top of her, his frame weighing her down and to be honest, she doesn't really mind, hands languidly smoothing over the back of his neck. His shoulders. The build of his back as he softens inside her, his hot breath ghosting over her skin and giving her goose bumps.

There's silence afterward. A nice, intimate hush that comes over them.

And - because she just can't help it - she laughs.

His head pops up from her collarbone, looking at her with wide alarmed eyes. "What?"

She only laughs harder and he lifts himself up above her, arms outstretched on the sides of her body. "What the hell, Amy?"

"I'm sorry." She manages between chuckles, trying to make him understand. I'm so sorry. I just... It's been a while since I've had sex and this was just..." She gestures at their naked, sweaty bodies. "... _really_ incredible. Like seriously..." She actually gives him the guns motion with her fingers and he just looks at her like she's crazy so, she simply grabs his face and kisses him then pulls away with a wide smile. "What I'm trying is that you, sir, have skills." She half teases.

"Okay." He says, looking put out, even though he gets off her and settles onto his back, bringing her with him so, that she's half lying on his chest, their legs tangling together, an arm wrapping her shoulders to bring her closer and she doesn't fight him, instead - like it's already second nature - snuggling into his body, throwing her arm and thigh over him to get more comfortable.

They lie there together for a while. His hands mapping out the curve of her back. Her fingers playing with his chest hair.

She breaks the silence again. "I'm happy." She says, speaking the absolute truth, feeling secure in the cocoon of their intimacy.

She shifts, her weight on his chest now, looking him over and he's _quite_ a sight. All messy hair and flushed skin, kiss-stained lips and half-lidded, bedroom eyes, pupils blown to twice their size and she leans in, kissing his chin quickly before pulling away. "Are you?"

He just gives her a 'what do you think?' look and she just stares him down until he sighs, only half-reluctant and admits. "Yes. Amy Santiago. Now that I have you all to myself, I am... stupidly, ridiculously, totally and completely happy." He raises his eye brows. "We good?"

"Shut up, Peralta." She answers, laughing as she pulls him in for another kiss, the only thing obstructing them being the big, wide grins on their faces and the ecstatic laughter escaping from their very bones.

...

**A/N: *peaks out from curtain* Did I do good? I hope you guys liked it. It took me a while to write it and I hope it pays off and you guys are, again, the best of the bunch and thanks very much for reading my story and for all the support! :) And also, more apologies for the long - and very late - wait. *sneaks off***


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